So much has changed since my last post. I didn't get to the wedding; I didn't get Princess (though her story has a happy ending, she found a home on a farm nearer her owner's niece). On June 3 I was called to the Chicago area, for what were the final weeks of my father's life. From the 3rd of June till the 22nd, when my father died, I lived with my sister and brother-in-law, and was surrounded by the love and support of my nieces and nephews. To the very end, my father (shown here with his great grandson and my sister Vicki) kept asking about the babies. Their pictures were hung prominently in every room of every facility he occupied.
It was a long and hard parting, but my astonishing mother set the tone as always. I am still amazed at the strength, grace, and love that my mother has, and know more than ever that she is a far better woman than I could hope to be. My sister remained till the end the most loving of daughters. My brother-in-law has been a true son to both my parents for over 36 years. Each grandchild, and their husbands and wife, came to visit Dad many times in the last few weeks. This was a real accomplishment for the mother of 5-month-old twins, and my nephew's wife, then expecting her own twins, who were born just a few days ago. The eldest granddaughter was such a comfort to my mother the night Dad died - she lives very close to Mom, and when Mom told her daughters to stay home, she decided without asking anyone to go over there. I know it was good for both of them. In the end, each of us did what we could, and as we all have very different strengths, many of both my parents' needs were met - at least I like to think so.
It was a long and hard parting, but my astonishing mother set the tone as always. I am still amazed at the strength, grace, and love that my mother has, and know more than ever that she is a far better woman than I could hope to be. My sister remained till the end the most loving of daughters. My brother-in-law has been a true son to both my parents for over 36 years. Each grandchild, and their husbands and wife, came to visit Dad many times in the last few weeks. This was a real accomplishment for the mother of 5-month-old twins, and my nephew's wife, then expecting her own twins, who were born just a few days ago. The eldest granddaughter was such a comfort to my mother the night Dad died - she lives very close to Mom, and when Mom told her daughters to stay home, she decided without asking anyone to go over there. I know it was good for both of them. In the end, each of us did what we could, and as we all have very different strengths, many of both my parents' needs were met - at least I like to think so.
A friend recently wrote "Wonder how long I am to be punished for my mistakes" it really struck a chord with me, which is why I'm writing now. I too have been wondering the same thing, for quite a while now, but as one might imagine my father's death has given new depth to my inquiry. We've been gone from SB 10 years now, and much of it feels like "wandering in the desert" (which I guess is strange since each place we've lived has snow). I wonder how I could have been a better daughter, how I could have made Dad's last days easier, why I was squeezed out of SB when so many are there, flourishing. I guess all this speculation is pointless, as, really, without a leap of faith, whichever branch it might be, there really isn't any coherent explanation for any of this - at least not that I can see. Just as last year, when we buried my dear Saul, the earth keeps on turning. The flowers are still blooming, the birds still jostle each other at the feeder, and I know, though I don't quite feel it, that there is in fact much beauty and grace on Earth. I assume in time this will be less intellectual and more an emotional response. The garden provides a quiet and calming respite from my inner turmoil.
In the month I was gone, the peonies bloomed and died back, the marigolds took control of the lower terraces, and the deer had some lovely hosta snacks. When I returned, though Brian had tried hard to keep the garden together, there was easily more than a month's weeding to do. Now that another month has passed, the mums and sedum are blooming, the ecchinachea still standing upright though fading. The goldfinches particularly like to eat these seeds, so I have resisted the impulse to cut them down, at least so far. The maris continue to bloom profusely, their flower heads are the size of smallish carnations and the color range is every shade of yellow and orange and everything in between. I am gathering seeds for next year..
And so our small corner of the world continues. I am once again trying to get a foster dog to bring a bit of joy to our house, and await word when/if a transport will happen. We prepare for the Jewish High Holidays more somberly this year; it will be the first time in my life that I don't leave the prayer hall when the service remembering the dead is read.
